Although I couldn’t help noticing, thanks to the last vestiges of the setting sun, that she was wearing only what she had been born with under her white dress…it was the mischievous glint radiating from her autumn green orbs that captured a great deal more of my attention.

It was April 7, 1986… and I was in the presence of a lady who I would name Viper (for reasons to be explained below), and my life was about to change…forever!

The lithe (5'9") redhead announced that she was hungry. Anxious to please, I took her to the long defunct Ah Fong’s (next to Greenblatt’s) on Sunset Blvd., and during the next two hours, I sat in awe, watching her delicately work her way through quite a number of Chinese dishes, and two bottles of white wine, listening to a considerable portion of her life story.

Raised on the East Coast, she had studied ballet with the American Ballet Theatre. But not achieving the level of performing that she aspired to, she then joined the Marine Corps. During her six-year stint, she managed to "service" her country more than it was used to, to the extent that she was discharged for "fraternization."

Back on the East Coast, she went to work… hustling on the Block in Baltimore, and then pleasure providing on Arch Street in Philadelphia. There she met a notorious tattoo artist named Harry Von Groff, and over a nine month period allowed herself to become adorned (from left tit to pierced clit) with a spectacular image of snakes, foliage, and a tiger… a portion of which appears here… as displaying its starting and ending points would most certainly violate this easily accessible Internet news rack publication’s relationship with the community.

And now she was sitting opposite me expressing her desire to perform in the Adult Entertainment Industry for a reason that would sum up her truly remarkable ability to come right to the point, "So I can have sex with 10,000 men at a time rather than just one."

That sentiment is dutifully designed and documented courtesy of Carnal Comics.

I hadn’t said very much up to this point, content to listen, and eat, and even drink my fair share of the wine. And of course… I hadn’t seen her infamous body artwork. But, perhaps bolstered by the wine, I felt compelled to interrupt her, and I cautiously offered, "Your adult industry performing name is going to be Viper."

Her eyes flashed with the fire of acknowledging something well analyzed, and richly deserving of considerable appreciation.

And during our walk back to my apartment on DeLongpre Ave. In West Hollywood, when I reached out to hold her tiny left hand, she took it willingly, and she clutched it intensely.

Later that evening I got to see her tattoo, as well as everything else I had already sort of seen through her dress.

But it wasn’t until the third night that we slept together.

That waiting period proved to be the best decision of my life

During the next couple of days, I took her to see many of my X-Rated industry associates, including World Modeling’s legendary talent agent Jim South, who immediately realized Viper’s potential, and proceeded to book work for her. She expressed her great admiration for Jim, and called him, "A true gentleman."

For the record… Viper’s first hardcore film appearance was in "White Trash." It was shot off of Coldwater Canon on a Saturday morning in early May 1986. I mention this because back in 1986, making adult films in California was illegal. And while I was playing football at 1100 Coldwater Canon that morning, I was horrified to watch a number of siren blaring police cars zoom up the street. But my fears were thankfully for naught as Viper returned home later that afternoon with a big grin on her face. She gleefully reported, while luxuriating in a tub of extremely hot water (her routine after every performance), that her first boy-girl scene had been with Tom Byron. And as her eyes grew wide with an expression of amused wonderment, she exclaimed, "He kept calling me ‘Mommy’."

(Almost all of her credits can be found at www.IAFD.com.)

One day, well into our second year of being together, I asked her what she would have done had we slept together the first night we met. Instantaneously she responded, "I would left the next morning. But I sensed that you wanted more from me. And when we didn’t have sex on the second night, I figured that you wanted to be my friend." At that point, Viper began to cry. I rushed over to hug her. Instead, she extended her tiny left hand, and I clutched it intensely with both of mine. She looked at me with tear-reddened eyes that ate their way deep into my heart, and sobbed, "I’ve haven’t had many friends."

Hopefully, a few of the shots on this page will reflect that way beyond anything else in our five-year relationship -- as well as forever -- Viper is the best friend that I’ve ever had.

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